


Promises (whispered, shouted)

by elareine



Series: Advent Calendar 2019 [19]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Friendship/Love, Gen, Hope, M/M, Major Character Injury, Self-Sacrifice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2019-12-21
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:51:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21886231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elareine/pseuds/elareine
Summary: “You’re afraid.”“Of course I am, you idiot!”“For me?”
Relationships: Jonathan Kent/Damian Wayne
Series: Advent Calendar 2019 [19]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1558834
Comments: 2
Kudos: 142





	Promises (whispered, shouted)

**Author's Note:**

> Advent calendar day nineteen: 'It hurts.'

“It hurts.” 

They had won. Barely, but their enemies had fallen or fled, leaving them lying on the ground on an alien planet in the darkest night he had ever seen. 

Jon knew that the League was, right now, fighting to restore the star at the center of this system. Knew that his father would’ve come to their aid hours ago if he could. All they had to do now was wait. 

Problem was: He wasn’t sure if he had that much time left. 

Next to him, Dami shifted. How he had the energy left to move after the beating they took, Jon will never know. “Where does it hurt?” 

“Is it too whiny to say ‘everything’?” 

It was true, too. Jon knew he wasn’t bleeding that heavily, but there was something very wrong with this abdomen. When he poked at it, it felt rigid and hot. It hurt like nothing he’d ever known, spreading through the rest of his body like a virus. His head had gotten hit, too. 

Dami didn’t make a sound, but Jon felt him sit up, his warmth soothing against Jon’s aching side. Dami’s small hands gently made their way down Jon’s body, checking for injuries in the darkness. From the way they lingered on his stomach, gently prodding, Jon knew he had come to the same conclusion as he had.

Dami swore. “Of all the boneheaded decisions—you’re bleeding internally.” His voice was wobbly, cracking, so unlike what Jon was used to. It was almost as if—

Jon opened his eyes and looked at him, wonder blossoming on his face. “You’re afraid.” 

Damian sniffed. “Of course I am, you idiot!” 

“For me?” 

“Of course!” And now his friend was yelling. That didn’t help with Jon’s headache, but he didn’t think it wise to point that out right now, because Dami continued: “You absolute dumbass! What did you jump in like that for? You knew the sun was waning! There’s no light here to help you heal!” 

“I had to.” It was as simple as that for Jon. 

Something hit the black earth with a thump. Jon was just glad Dami wasn’t hitting him. “No, you didn’t.” 

“They would’ve killed you, Dami.” The mere idea has horror wash through him. He didn’t know how to phrase it, how to make sure Dami knew how _important_ he was. Jon had traveled across the universe and seen countless planets; he didn’t want to ever imagine his home one without Dami. 

That felt like it was too big to say, though, so he told him the next best thing: “If I die, I’ll be happy it’s for you.”

For a moment, all was quiet. Then: “No, you _will not_. I will not let you.” 

Jon smiled. It was difficult, but he didn’t want to make Dami sad. Not now. “I don’t think this is in your power.”

But Dami, the stubborn idiot, was moving. He was… getting up? Jon squinted. 

“The sun will come in that direction, right? All we have to do is find it.” Dami somehow sounded calm and logical. How did the bats do it? “So I will carry you there.”

“Dami, you can barely stand!” Jon protested. 

“I won’t drop you.” Incredibly, Dami was getting to his feet. Jon winced when he saw how gingerly he put his weight onto his right leg. The crack of a broken bone was still ringing in his ear. 

“That’s not—” 

“Jon. I cannot sit here and watch you—I _cannot_. So hold still and let me carry you!” 

“Okay… okay.” 

Moving brought fresh pain. Jon was openly crying now, and he thought Dami was, too. But still, he insisted on somehow hoisting Jon upon his back. 

Jon remembered all the times he had carried Dami around like this because his friend insisted it was more dignified than, say, a fireman’s carry or bridal style. Those were good memories; the kind worth holding onto when you were dying. 

“There’s a station two miles from here,” Dami said as he began to walk. Progress was slow, stumbling; Dami couldn’t seem to be walking a straight line. Still he kept talking: “There might be a shuttle there. If this sun doesn’t rise, we have to get you to a different one. I know the way.” 

“But—Dami, can you even see?” 

“No,” his friend admitted. “My night vision lenses broke hours ago.” 

This was madness, Jon thought. They could fall into a pit at any moment, or down a cliff, or walk into a tree, or—they had no chance. All Damian was doing was put himself through more pain. 

But Dami continued talking. “So, you need to keep your eyes open and see for me.” 

Oh. Jon hadn’t even noticed that he had let them slip closed. The creeping darkness had ceased to matter. If Dami wanted him to look, though… His night vision wasn’t nearly as good as it was supposed to be, what with how much of his power had been drained. 

He could concentrate if it meant keeping Dami safe, though. 

“You will just have to be my eyes,” Dami said again, “and I will be your legs. And we will find the sun. I promise you.” 

And what could Jon say to that except: “Yeah, okay. We will. Turn left, there’s a tree ahead.” 


End file.
